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\~ IN63 



THE DEFINITION OF A 
GENTLEMAN 



Being one of Cardinal Newman's 4 
Discourses Addressed to the 
Catholics of Dublin." 



Of this edition 950 copies were printed, 
including 30 copies on Japan vellum. 




CARDINAL NEWMAN 



THE 
DEFINITION 
OF A GENTLEMAN 



By CARDINAL NEWMAN 




4 THE KIRGATE PRESS 

LEWIS BUDDY 3rd 
AT * HILLSIDE' IN CANTON 
PENNSYLVANIA 
MCM & I 



-£>3 



THE DEFINITION OF 
A GENTLEMAN 

* 

It is almost a definition of a 
gentleman to say that he is one 
who never inflicts pain. This 
description is both refined and, 
so far as it goes, accurate* He 
is mainly occupied in merely 
removing the obstacles which 
hinder the free and unembar^ 
rassed action of those about 
him, and he concurs with their 
movements rather than takes 
the initiative himself. His ben' 
efits may be considered as par' 



allel to what are called the 
comforts or conveniences in 
arrangements of a personal 
nature — like an easy chair or a 
good fire, which do their best 
in dispelling cold and fatigue, 
though nature provides both 
means of rest and animal heat 
without them. The true gen' 
tleman in like manner carefully 
avoids whatever may cause a 
jar or a jolt in the mind of those 
with whom he is cast — all 
clashing of opinion or collision 
of feeling, all restraint or sus' 
picion or gloom or resentment, 
his great concern being to 
make every one at ease and 



at home- He has his eyes on all 
his company, he is tender to" 
wards the bashful, gentle to' 
wards the distant, and merciful 
towards the absurd* He can re' 
collect to whom he is speaking; 
he guards against ^seasonable 
allusions or topics which may 
irritate ; he is seldom prominent 
in conversation, and never 
wearisome- He makes light of 
favors when he does them, and 
seems to be receiving when he 
is conferring. He never speaks 
of himself except when com/ 
pelled, never defends himself 
by a mere retort ; he has no ears 
for slander or gossip, is scrupu' 



lous in imputing motives to 
those who interfere with him, 
and interprets everything for 
the best. He is never mean or 
little in his disputes, never takes 
unfair advantage, never mis' 
takes personalities or sharp 
sayings for arguments, or in' 
sinuates evil which he dare not 
say out. From a long/sighted 
prudency, he observes the 
maxim of the ancient sage, that 
we should ever conduct our' 
selves towards our enemy as if 
he were one day to be our 
friend. He has too much good 
sense to be affronted at insults. 
He is too well employed to re' 



member injuries and too indo' 
lent to bear malice. He is pa' 
tient, forbearing, and resigned 
on philosophical principle ; he 
submits to pain because it is 
inevitable, to bereavement be 
cause it is irreparable, and to 
death because it is his destiny. 
If he engages in controversy of 
any kind, his disciplined intel' 
lect preserves him from the 
blundering discourtesy of bet' 
ter, perhaps, but less educated 
minds,who, like blunt weapons, 
tear and hack instead of cutting 
clean, who mistake the point in 
argument, waste their strength 
on trifles, misconceive their 



adversary, and leave the ques' 
tion more involved than they 
find it. He may be right or 
wrong in his opinion, but he is 
too clear-headed to be unjust ; 
he is as simple as he is forcible, 
and as brief as he is decisive. 
Nowhere shall we find greater 
candor, consideration, indul' 
gence ; he throws himself into 
the minds of his opponents, he 
accounts for their mistakes. He 
knows the weakness of human 
reason as well as its strength, 
its province, and its limits. If 
he be an unbeliever, he will be 
too profound and large-minded 
to ridicule religion or to act 



against it ; he is too wise to be 
a dogmatist or fanatic in his 
infidelity. He respects piety 
and devotion ; he even supports 
institutions as venerable, beau' 
tiful, or useful, to which he does 
not assent ; he honors the min' 
isters of religion, and it contents 
him to decline its mysteries 
without assailing or denounc 
ing them* He is a friend of re' 
ligious toleration, and that not 
only because his philosophy 
has taught him to look on all 
forms of faith with an impartial 
eye, but also from the gentle' 
ness and effeminacy of feeling 
which is the attendant on civile 



zatioru Not that he may not 
hold a religion, too, in his own 
way, even when he is not a 
Christian. In that case his re' 
ligion is one of imagination and 
sentiment ; it is the embodiment 
of those ideas of the sublime, 
majestic, and beautiful without 
which there can be no large 
philosophy* Sometimes he ac 
knowledges the being of God, 
sometimes he invests an un^ 
known principle or qualities 
with the attributes of perfect 
tion. And this deduction of his 
reason or creation of his fancy 
he makes the occasion of such 
excellent thoughts, and the 



starting-point of so varied and 
systematic a teaching, that he 
even seems like a disciple of 
Christianity itself. From the 
very accuracy and steadiness of 
his logical powers, he is able to 
see what sentiments are con/ 
sistent in those who hold any 
religious doctrine at all, and he 
appears to others to feel and to 
hold a whole circle of theo' 
logical truths, which exist in his 
mind otherwise than as a num' 
ber of deductions* Such are 
some of the lineaments of the 
ethical character which the cul' 
tivated intellect will form, apart 
from the religious principle. 



They are seen within the pale 
of the church and without it, in 
holy men and in profligate; 
they form the beau'ideal of the 
world ; they partly assist and 
partly distort the development 
of the Catholic. They may sub' 
serve the education of a St, 
Francis de Sales or a Cardinal 
Pole ; they may be the limits of 
contemplations of a Shaftes' 
bury or a Gibbon. Basil and 
Julian were fellow'students at 
the schools of Athens ; and one 
became the saint and doctor of 
the Church, the other a scoff' 
ing and relentless foe. 



